


A Player's Stage

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fourth Age, General
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2005-11-01
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:25:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3759546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas' tale of saying good-bye to everything that is Middle-earth: the people, the places, and the memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Author's Notes: Well, it's been a long absence from fanfiction writing or at least posting stories. This story has actaully been done for over a year now, but I haven't had the time to edit it nor to really post it. What can I say, college is consuming my soul. On another note, I never truly meant for this to be as long and drawn out as it was. In fact, it was only to go as far as Legolas' musing at the old Council of Elrond. Then the rabid plot bunny decided to run away with the story, dragging me in tow. Legolas was not supposed to make it all the way back to Eryn Lasgalen. He just really, really!, wanted go home I guess.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used below or any of the places in which these characters inhabit. All is owned by JRR Tolkien and his estates. I mean no infringement upon this author's work and only write the following tale to ease my own mind.

Rating: G

Summary: After Aragorn's death and Arwen's self-appointed exile to Lothlórien, it is said that Legolas built a gray ship and traveled to the Havens with his elf-friend, Gimli. This is the tale of saying good-bye to everything that is Middle-earth: the people, the places, and the memories.

Now, the story…

~*~

A PLAYER'S STAGE

By: Susie

~*~

"Haste therefore each degree,

To welcome destiny:

Heaven is our heritage,

Earth but a player's stage;

Mount we unto the sky…"

Adieu, Farewell Earth's Bliss

Thomas Nashe

~*~

The delicate hand reached out and gently rested on the back of the stone chair. The long fingers took cares to follow the detailed designs that were long ago craved into the hard surface by a gifted artist. A sigh arose from the mouth of the being whose hand trailed along the old seats that spoke clearing of longing and remembrance. It was musical even though bathed in sorrow and was also unmistakably Elvish in origin. The elf, who stood alone, was the youngest prince of Thranduil, one of the Nine Walkers in the War of the One Ring, and a dwarf-friend. Legolas Greenleaf removed his hand from the chair and stepped around the prone object to stand in front of it.

One day, so long ago, it had been his seat. The years had come and gone and, although the chair looked slightly more worn, it was still the same pale granite color. Staring at the seat, Legolas could almost feel the hard back that had forced him to sit straighter than normal. He could remember how the seat was always cool no matter how long his body remained there. Turning to face his back to the chair, the archer slowly lowered himself down and instantly he felt his mind journey back into the past. Looking outwards, his eyes fell on the other chairs in the half circle. They, like the persons that had once occupied them, all bore resemblance to one another, although the patterns were slightly altered given each its own unique quality.

The elf's eyes turned to a seat a few down from him. It was where Gimli had sat next to his father during the Council meeting. A smile graced the elf's porcelain features as Legolas remembered his first impression of the dwarf. It had not been flattering in the least and he never would have thought that the son of Glóin would become one of his dearest friend not six months later. It appeared as if the Valar had quite the sense of humor! Smiling at the thought of his friend, the archer shifted his eyes over a few more chairs and found Boromir's. The smile slowly faded as the first pang of loss settled into his heart.

The Son of Gondor had been the first and only casualty of the Fellowship during the actual journey towards Mordor. Although his time with the Fellowship had been cut drastically short, Boromir's deed, especially in Legolas' heart, would never be forgotten. He had been a brave man and one that the elf wished he had the time to better know. If Faramir, whom the Elven prince had gotten to know and love as a great friend, was anything like his brother then Legolas knew he would have found a great companion in the elder son of Denethor. Yet, fate had not allowed this to happen. It was not Boromir's fault that the One Ring's power took hold of him and no one had ever blamed the man for the ill that had befallen him at the Ring's hand. The son of Denethor loved his city dearly and felt the power of Isildur's Bane would help the White City; he had been deceived by the powerful creation of evil. Even Legolas had felt the pull of the Ring in his mind, yet the Ring's focus was not upon the elf and he had been spared the fate that Boromir fell to. It was a great loss to Middle-earth. Softly, Legolas murmured a lament for the fallen man.

The sharp Elven eyes opened quickly and turned towards the place where the hobbit Frodo had sat bearing the One Ring. It was amazing that one so small and inexperienced could accomplish so very much. He bore the fate of all the Free-Peoples of the land and he never once backed down. Legolas knew the halfing had his doubts and fear, but he did want needed to be done. The bravery that Frodo, and all his Shire companions, shown would always amaze the elf-prince. Legolas did not know if in his heart he possessed the strength that Frodo had and he hoped that the small hobbit had found peace in the Gray Havens for no one deserved it more.

And of course, Legolas thought as he moved his eyes to the head of the circle, there is Lord Elrond's seat, although slightly facing Aragorn's chair.

All those years ago Legolas had not missed the protective nature of the elf-lord to his foster son. It was something that the future King had also not missed, much to his distaste. Stepping away from his chair, Legolas stood in the center of the half circle turning slowly. Before him sat empty chairs that at one point in time held many great people in them. Many of those that had been the occupants of those chairs were now gone. Elrond, Mithrandir, Bilbo, and Frodo had passed over the sea to the Gray Havens, seeking the peace that Middle-earth no longer offered them. Sam had, of course, faithfully followed his Master. Many years since their departure had occurred and, though it pained his heart, the archer knew that there was a good chance that the little halflings were no longer in the realm of the living, for even the Undying Lands can not keep mortals alive forever. It was the mortals' gift, Legolas knew, that they were not bound to Arda as the Elves were. There was something greater awaiting them and, that ultimate peace, was theirs alone to behold. Along with Sam and Frodo, Legolas knew that their companions Peregrin and Meriadoc had also passed, although he had been their to witness the small hobbits' funeral. They had been buried in the Hall of the Kings in the White City as was their right. They were more than worthy and, in the end, it brought joy to Legolas' heart to know that they were honored so greatly in death.

His father had warned him, long before the Council of Elrond, that befriending mortals was a dangerous business. Your heart will only be broken, Thranduil had said and Legolas listened. For many long years he listened and stayed away from those that would die one day while he continued to live. He listened to the warning and kept his heart closed off to those of the mortal races. As it was, he watched people whom he came to recognize wither and die before his eyes while he never appeared to age. He felt a small pang in his heart whenever he would find his way to Lake-Town only to see that the men he had known were no longer and a new generation had come in its place. The prince knew that to befriend a mortal would never suit him, for he did not know how he would be able to deal with the inevitable loss.

All had been well until one day, while he was patrolling the eastern border, a Ranger had fallen victim to orcs. Without thought, the archer jumped and saved the man's life. It had seemed like such a trivial thing at the time, but in the end, it was so much more. That injured man had changed the prince's life. The way of the mortals quickly become an object of fascination for the young elf and he found all his questions being answered by this man. For the month that the man recovered in his home, much to his father's chagrin, Legolas befriended him. Aragorn, son of Arathron, became a constant companion to the elf-prince. Their friendship would hold stronger than any Elven friendship Legolas has possessed and, it was because of this mere Ranger, that Legolas found himself becoming a part of the mortal world. It was as if a door had been opened to the him. For many years the pair, man and elf, would share adventures, pain, tears, blood and so much more. They became more then friends, they became brothers, and that bond held true until…

Legolas bowed his head.

…until only recently. Barely a month ago, the King of Gondor had finally fallen victim to his fate. Aragorn passed away and his lovely wife, Arwen, had left for Cerin Amroth in Lothlórien where she was to fall to the fate of mortals under the leaves of the place where she had long ago met Estel. It had broken the prince's heart to say goodbye to his dear friends and still the losses torn at his very soul.

A dangerous business indeed, father.

Legolas knew that if he had never ventured out of his home or never saved Aragorn's life his own would be much different. And yet, so much emptier. His mortal friends were his life. They had offered and given him so much that without them Legolas did not think his long time on Middle-earth would have been nearly was worthwhile even if they were only in it for a blink of an eye. The joy and love that his mortal friends had given him filled his heart with more contentment than Legolas ever thought it could hold. Just as their ultimate deaths had filled his heart with more sorrow than he felt it could stand.

The only small beacon of light through all this was his ever-faithful friend Gimli. The dwarf, while not young anymore, was still healthy and would bless Legolas with companionship for more years yet. When the dwarf passed, a thought that the elf tried valiantly to avoid, Legolas was not certain what he would do. Grief, it was said, could kill an elf and the archer did not want to think of that fate befalling him. The future was something that Legolas did not like to think about for it held too much sorrow and uncertainty.

He knew his own fate, for that had been sealed during the One Ring's War on the Path of the Dead. The crying of that gull had opened a flood of need for the sea that he never knew he would face. Sea-longing, as many referred to it, had been a part of his life ever since. Constantly, the sound and the song of the sea was in his mind. It invaded his thoughts and his dreams; a moment's peace from it was never a possibility. In some part of his heart, he did not want the constant song of the sea to leave him for it seemed to complete him even while it tore him apart. As the days and years passed, it grew in intensity and one day soon Legolas knew he would need to depart. The pain of the longing would no longer be bearable.

Sadly, the prince knew this day was coming closer. The song was not as easy to tune out and completing even daily tasks was proving more difficult. Soon, he knew, they would become impossible. The gray ship that would bear him needed to sail soon. Although, he longed never to leave his dwarf-friend behind and so, he held onto Arda with every fiber of his being. He would not leave his friend until the very last moment; until all his strength had waned, for he knew Gimli would do the same. Legolas knew that his elvellon would hold onto life for as long as he could out of fear of leaving behind the elf. Truth be told, Legolas knew he would too beg his friend not to leave his side for, when Gimli did, the archer did not what he would do or, even worse, who he would be. With his friend by his side, Legolas knew who he was; he was someone's brother in all but blood. Without the dwarf, the elf would be lost. So, he would hold true to these mortal lands until parted from his friend by death because he could not be alone.

With another sigh that held immeasurable amount of sadness and even some fear, Legolas looked over the old Council seats again. With a smile, a true tribute to how strange Elvish emotions could be, he remembered the sheer absurdity of the Fellowship that had finally been chosen to follow the One Ring to its destruction. Four hobbits, two Men, a dwarf, an elf, and a wizard. Those Nine had held the fate of Middle-earth in their hands and somehow they had succeed. Against everything, they had won and evil had been destroyed; the light had beaten the darkness. In truth, if Legolas had not been apart of the entourage, he never would have believed the final result. Even odder was that it had been two hobbits that destroyed the Ring. Yes, the other Fellowship had done their share, but Frodo and Sam were the ones to whom the true credit had to be given. For the remainder of his life, the elf-prince would never be able to answer what gods had been watching over them, but, whomever they were, they had truly blessed those Nine.

"And what pray-tell is so amusing?" A gruff yet familiar voice broke into Legolas' thoughts. "I find nothing humorous about being in a land full of strange Elves."

The son of Thranduil turned to find Gimli standing behind him. He had not heard the dwarf approach although he was not entirely surprised given how in-depth in his thoughts he had been.

"I was simply remembering, elvellon." Legolas answered in his melodic voice that covered the surprise his friend caused him with ease. The dwarf only nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but the elf continued. "And I do not understand why you still insist on believing Elves are the strange folk. If anything, you are the strange one, being a dwarf within Elvish lands."

Gimli grunted slightly before speaking. "I am only here because you feel it necessary to drag me all across Middle-earth and I fear for your safety. For, without me, you would surely find yourself in numerous disastrous situations."

Legolas' silver laughter echoed slightly. "I dare say you are the one who gets me into trouble! Remind me again who it was that got us lost in those caves under the Misty Mountains?"

The dwarf shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea." Legolas pinned the full-fury of an Elvish glare upon his friend, but the son of Glóin no longer seemed phased by such things. He returned the glare and then continued. "I do not seem to remember such a circumstance. Perhaps that Elvish memory of yours is fading in its old age."

"Old age?" The prince raised an eyebrow. "I think if either of us is becoming senile it would be yourself. I remember quite clearly that it was you who took many a wrong turns that ended with us being lost for two days in that underground prison you seem to enjoy so much."

Gimli said nothing, but walked to stand next to his friend whom was still in the middle of the semi-circle. The experience that the two friends were arguing over had taken place during their promised journey across Middle-earth. It had been a small mis-direction on Gimli's part for he was more than certain that the path he had taken would lead him out of the deep caves. He had been mistaken, and although Legolas complained at him for hours on end at having to spend another two days under ground, the dwarf was certain that the elf had known the way out, but sought to give his friend a hard time. To this day he still have never received an honest answer from the prince and knew that he never would. He had, over the course of the friendship with Legolas, begun to understand the Elvish sense of humor. It was a truly peculiar thing, for Elves seemed to get the great joy out of making others feel like a fool. It appeared to be a goal to make one be as uncomfortable as possible and, when that was accomplished, then the elf truly felt satisfied. It was an enjoyable thing to watch yet Gimli loathed to be the subject of Elvish mirth and would much rather be a spectator.

The pair now stood side by side in the old place of Elrond's Council in the Third Age. Gimli, like his Elven friend had done earlier, was immersed in old memories after pondering the "Cave Incident." He thought fondly of those that he had come to know so well over the journey across Middle-earth. He had many memories, both fond and horror filled of that time of war. Looking at the lithe elf next to him, Gimli was reminded of the fondest gift he had received from the War of the One Ring. His friendship with Legolas was dear to his heart even if the pair acted much like the bitter enemies they had started out as for they constantly seemed to be in a one verbal war or another. The son of Glóin knew that his friendship with Legolas was strong and would hold for many more years. Although, with the recent death of Aragorn, Gimli's thoughts had turned to his ultimate mortal fate and what that meant to the friendship he held with the son of Thranduil.

Gimli knew he would not live forever, although he was able to admit he had many years left in him. The sad and bitter truth was he was getting old while his elf-friend stayed as young as ever. The dwarf had seen the painful grief etched on Legolas' face when Aragorn had left them, a looked that would pass over his Elven features not a week later when the Lady Arwen departed for Lothlórien. The sorrow on the prince's features broke his heart, for Gimli was pained to think of what would happen to his friend ere he passed on. He knew that he was the last of the Legolas' mortal friends on the shores of Arda and, when he finally died, what would become of his friend? It appeared as if the Elven prince would be alone in the world, a thought that caused Gimli's heart to constrict.

Shaking his head, Gimli cleared his mind of such horrid thoughts. It seemed like death had been a common companion as of late with the passing of such mortals as the hobbits, Éomer, Éowyn, Faramir, Aragorn, and Arwen. Though they had not all occurred in a short time, with each new death, the pains of the prior ones rung true. With the King of Gondor's passing and his Queen, Gimli was reminding of all those that he had loved whom had moved on to the next life. Somehow he could find peace knowing that one day he would join them, but what of his friend? Legolas would never rest with his mortal friends for that was not his step in the after-life. He knew however that the prince's thoughts had already entertained this depressing fact and did not want to dwell on it. There were still many years to live and he would not allow them to be sundered by the thought of his death.

"I remember this place like we were here yesterday."

It was the elf's soft voice that broke Gimli out of his reverie. Looking around the circle of seats, he found himself nodding his head. Just as easily as the elf next to him, the dwarf could picture the faces of those in the Council.

"As do I, my friend." Gimli stated and added, "It had been many longs years though."

"Yes," Legolas agreed. "Many years." The statement ended with a long sigh that clearly spoke of all that had passed in those long years.

Gimli looked at each seat for a moment before speaking again. "There were many great people who sat here and many that did not."

The Elven-prince nodded, but said nothing. It was a time to mourn those that had fought for so much and had finally passed onto another world. There battle, like to two friends standing before the old seats, had been long and hard. Neither could find any fault in those that had passed on finally finding the peace they worked so hard to achieve.

TBC 


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas' tale of saying good-bye to everything that is Middle-earth: the people, the places, and the memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

"We thought we'd find you two here." 

Both elf and dwarf turned to find Elrohir and Elladan, Elrond's twin sons, walking up the steps to greet the two travels to Imladris.  The pair looked much like they had the first time Legolas had set his eyes upon them however, he thought sadly, this would not always be so.  The twins had, like their sister and uncle even, chosen a mortal life.  Elladan and Elrohir would one day pass on having forsaken Valinor for a life on Arda.  It was almost too much for the Elven prince to bear at the current moment, looking at his friends who could have ventured with him across the sea, dying.  Because, Legolas knew, each beating of a mortal's heart meant that they were that much closer to death; each day took them that much closer to leaving Legolas.  

How, the elf-prince wondered, must it be to know that each moment you live you are dying?   
  
Thankfully, Elrohir's voice interrupted the archer's thoughts, "Although, my brother,"  he said while turning to face his twin with a twinkle of humor in his eye and voice,  "I must admit I am surprised to see they are not attacking each other with words as normal."   
  
Legolas spoke with a smile passing over his lips, "Well, I fear you were too late for I have already won that battle."  Gimli turned a shocked expression to the elf next to him causing the prince to turn his smile down at him.  "Well it is true, elvellon.  I fear you body is not the only thing that is stunted."   
  
The dwarf rolled his eyes.  "You should learn to guard your tongue, elf, before I find your legs a proper resting for my axe."  Gimli warned good naturally although he patted the axe that rested on his shoulder.  It was not necessary to carry weapons of any kind in Imladris, but the son of Glóin found that old habits died hard and he never ventured outside of a room without his trusted weapons at his side.  Curious, and realizing Legolas was not going to verbal retaliate just yet, Gimli stole a glance at his friend and realized that the bow from Galadriel was sitting on a chair not far away from where the elf stood.  He is a much of a warrior as I and I see he is unable to break the habits that the War of the Ring instilled.   
  
"I suppose I was wrong on my earlier claim that they were not attacking one another."  Elrohir said while turning to face the older twin.  "We must have caught them at a time where they had to catch their breath."   
  
Elladan nodded.  "I believe you are correct.  They needed a moment's respite so that they could once again arm themselves with their same old insults just worded differently."   
  
Knowing that they had both just been insulted in some form or another, Legolas and Gimli turned to the twins who both wore identical smirks.   
  
"Gimli, I fear that we should go elsewhere if we long to continue our intelligent conversation."  The elf looked the twins from head to toe as if assessing them.  He shook his head obviously unhappy with whatever he had seen.  "I believe with the current company we will be unable to follow our conversation for it may prove too difficult for certain people to keep up."   
  
The dwarf continued his friend's train of thought, "I agree.  These two, I fear, only received half a brain each and need one another to even form a complete sentence and thought."   
  
The twins shared a laughed and Elrohir spoke matter-of-factly.  "They fear our superior intellects, brother."   
  
Elladan tisked lightly.  "Yes, they do.  But then, who does not?"   
  
Legolas and Gimli rolled their eyes in perfect synchronism and, once realized the action of the other, frowned upon one another in much the same fashion.  This incited laughter once again between the brothers.   
  
"I do not know which I find more disturbing, Elrohir.  The fact that a dwarf is sharing the mannerisms of an elf."   
  
"Or that an elf is taking after a dwarf!"  Elladan finished.   
  
For their part, both the elf and dwarf had the decency to looked shocked and outraged, although no word was voiced.  In truth, neither found the comment insulting or false.  Long ago they had realized the many traits of one another they'd begun to mimic and it was easier to accept such things that came about from their friendship.     
  
Besides, the son of Glóin thought, I am still a far cry from speaking to the trees or singing.   
  
Although he knew that he had somehow come to appreciate nature more just as Legolas, though not ready to bury himself in a mine, was able to enjoy the hand-made beauty of the dwarves.  Neither of these qualities had come easily and it had been the subject for many arguments between the two; some of which had even lost their teasing aspect.  In the end though, the pair of friends knew that Legolas' love for nature and Gimli's attachment to caves were not so opposite as they had first thought.  They both held something dear to their hearts and looked at these things with great respect.  In time, they both came to realize that they were not so different, although they never relenting upon teasing one another.   
  
Elladan noticed that neither elf or dwarf was going say anything further and so took it upon himself to bring forth conversation again.  "Tell me, my friends, why have you strayed here?"   
  
It was not lost on either of Elrond's sons that the two remaining Fellowship members in Middle-earth had found their way to the place where everything had begun all those years ago.  Neither brother, also, had any doubt as to where the two friends' thoughts strayed.  The news of their foster brother's death had hit both twins hard as well as the self-appointed exile of their sister.  For many hours, they remained together in silence as tears of mourning fell from their midnight eyes.  Together they had grieved for the loss of their two siblings even if one was not of blood. And, although their grief was far from over, the brothers had found strength in each other and would continue to do so until their own lives ended.  Being twins they had a bond that was deeper than normal brothers.  Gimli had not been far from the truth when he stated that the two seemed to share a brain, though instead of a mind, they shared souls.  They would forever be together whether in this life of the next.  Not even their deaths would separate the sons of Elrond.     
  
"We were simply remembering,"  Legolas answered the question that Elladan had asked.   
  
"Ah, that can certainly be a dangerous past-time." Elrohir stated his eyes locking on the prince of Eryn Lasgalen.  "For the thoughts seldom remain in the past but rather venture to the future."  The two Elves shared eye contact, numerous things unsaid passed between the sons of Elrond and the son of Thranduil.  Legolas knew that Elrohir, as well as Elladan, both knew where his thoughts were being entertained.  For the first time in many years, the lord of Ithilien was the first to break eye contact, lowering his gaze to the floor.   
  
Gimli, aware of the tension that had suddenly come between the three friends, coughed to clear the silence.  "I believe it is near time for dinner, is it not?"  Although the dwarf was certainly not concerned with food, he felt it important to speak of something that may remove them from their current discomfort.  He agreed with what Elrohir had said and was thinking much along the same lines ere he came up to his elf-friend.  Legolas, he knew, seldom kept his thoughts in the present; they appeared to either linger in the past or to the future.     
  
And the future what was Gimli feared the most.  Aside from the fact that one day Legolas could be alone in this world, the dwarf also knew of the constant sea-longing that ate away at his friend.  Gimli knew well that his companion still felt the call of the sea for that would never leave him and over time grew only in strength.  Yet, he did not know how soon the elf would part from Middle-earth nor did he wish to think of it.  As selfish as it was, Gimli wanted the prince to stay with him until he breathed his last breath, but he was not certain if that was possible.  The dwarf was afraid to ask, however, because he was even more scared of the answer he would receive.  So he simply let Legolas' passing to Valinor remain unspoken of in desperate hopes that he would never have to speak of such things.      
  
"Food?"  Elladan asked with laughter.  "I had forgotten that Dwarves are nearly as bad as hobbits in regards to receiving nutrients."  He smiled down at Gimli.  "Come, elvellon, let us find something for your stomach before you faint on us."   
  
The Elves shared a small laugh on Gimli's behalf and the dwarf granted them it, although he would be hard pressed to allow it to happen again.  They company of four soon found their way into the inner palace of Imladris.  The wondrous home was, at one time, house to Elrond Peredhil, although now his sons and trusted friend, Glorfindel, along with Celeborn who visited often, watched over the Last Homely House.  The one time Lord of Imladris had departed West, leaving the shores of Middle-earth forever.  It had been a hard parting for the elf-Lord for he left behind a daughter and sons he would never again see.   
  
Legolas did not know how Elrond had the strength to do leave his family behind either.  Losing his mortal friends was one thing, but he had always known that they would pass on.  The Lord of Imladris, however, did not have to face this.  His children could have forever been in his life, but they chose differently.  Yet, the archer knew, just as he could not imagine life without his mortal family, the kin of Elrond could not possibly imagine a life other than the one they chose.   Their happiness was all that mattered and, if they had found it in a mortal life, that was what they deserved.  In some regards, the Legolas was jealous of Elrond's children.  They had the ability to chose a mortal life being yet his own immortality was forever apart of him.     
  
Long before the Council of Elrond and the Fellowship, the prince would never had entertained the thought of a living a mortal life because immortality was a gift not to be wasted!  Yet, as the years went on and as his friendships with those of mortal races grew, Legolas wondered if he would not follow in the footsteps of Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir if he could.  Somewhere, in his heart of hearts, he knew his choice would perhaps mirror the children of Elrond, especially now that he had watched so many loved ones leave him for all eternity.   Men did not understand nor comprehend how lucky they were to have the rare gift of morality for, to many of this race, death was the end and something to fear.  The Lord of Ithilien, however, found a Mortal's death something to be in awe of and something he envied greatly.

Sighing to clear his thoughts, Legolas looked out to the vastness that was Imladris and felt his heart fall.  These lands were beautiful, he knew, yet they once had held so much more wonder.  Like it was yesterday, Legolas remembered his first visit to Imladris and how breathtaking the Elvish lands had been.  That breathtaking beauty still existed, yet the same feelings of wonder had been taking from the elf.  Anger suddenly rose in   
  
Suddenly anger grew inside the prince.  How dare that gull take his love of these lands; how dare one small song bird change his life so horribly!  He had lived so contentedly under the trees and the sky of Middle-earth and would have done so for many more years, but that gull had taken it all from him.  The forests that had once captivated him for days on end, held nothing more than a passing interest.  The rushing rivers which he would watch, allowing the sound to lull him into a peaceful meditation, now only reminded him of the raging sea that he longed to see.  It was not fair!   Just as a mortals' beating heart signified one step closer to death, Legolas' own heart beats took him one step further from Arda.   
  
 It was truly fruitless to try and blame the sea-longing upon a single bird.  No, it was ridiculous, the archer corrected.  It was no more the bird's fault than it was Aragorn's; the man whom the prince had followed to the place where he had heard the bird.  No, Legolas knew, he only had himself to blame.   
  
Legolas Greenleaf long under tree   
In joy hast thou lived. Beware of the sea!   
If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,   
Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more…   
  
He had known what his choice in path would bring him.  Granted, the prince never knew it would be this difficult of a sensation to live with, but he had known that he was sealing his own faith.  It had been his choice to follow Aragorn, for he had made a pledge to the Fellowship and he would not have been able to live with himself had he left the King of Men alone on the Path of the Dead.  The son of Arathorn had fought long with the son of Thranduil to try and per say him not to go, not to risk the cry of the gull, but Legolas had not heeded the future King's words.  He had followed Aragorn as he always promised to and, though the suffering that would plague him later from the sea-longing was harsh, he would make the same choice again.  An hundred times over, he would make the same choice.   
  
Aragorn may have been the King of Men, but he was just as much a liege to Legolas.  That man invoked a loyalty that the archer had never known he possessed. Legolas had felt a stronger sense of duty to Aragorn than his own father at times.  

A dangerous business, my son, befriending mortals.     
  
Indeed, Legolas thought with a shake of his head as if attempting to remove his father's echoing words from his head.     
  
"Sit, my friends!"  Elrohir exclaimed nearly causing Legolas to start.     
  
His mind had been deeply involved in its own flight of thought and the Elven prince had not even notice that the quartet had come to stop inside the family dining chamber.  He blinked his eyes rapidly as if coming out of a dream and took the seat which the son of Elrond offered him.  The four friends sat and began to eat the meal before them in silence.  It was this companionable silence that Legolas wanted.  His own mind had been keeping him so occupied as of late, that conversation would prove empty.     
  
The silence was broken, though, by the soft steps of a pair of Elves.    
"Good evening, my friends," Glorfindel said with a smile to the four sitting diners.  Celeborn inclined his own head in way of greeting.   
  
"Glorfindel and Celeborn, come join us."  Elrohir commanded lightly with a smile of his own.  The pair of Elven Lords both pull out chairs and took a seat among the party.   
  
"How does this evening find all of you?"  Celeborn asked though was looking solely at Legolas, much to the younger elf's surprise.   
  
The prince stared back making the intense gaze as best he could.  "Just fine," he answered.   
  
Glorfindel released a sound that could only be classified as a 'humph' but then quickly covered it with a cough.  None in the small room were convinced, however, lest of all the sons of Elrond.   
  
"Glorfindel?"  Elladan questioned with a raised eyebrow.   
  
"You plan to leave tomorrow do you not, Legolas?"  The blond warrior asked ignoring Elladan.  The prince stared for a moment wondering what game Glorfindel and Celeborn were trying to play.   
  
"Ai,"  he answered carefully.  "I do.  Gimli as well."   
  
Glorfindel nodded and then fell silent.  The Lord of Ithilien watched for a moment before returning to the meal before him.  As if the Elven warrior had waited for this moment, he spoke again.   
  
"You will be saying farewell then to Imladris then?"   
  
The question was followed by a stunned silence.  Legolas slowly turned his eyes to Glorfindel, astonishment and no small amount of distress, on his fair face.  Why must you remind me?!  His mind screamed to the elf who had asked such a painful yet simple question.  The twins were giving Glorfindel an expression of warning, though the warrior chose to ignore them, focusing solely on the son of Thranduil.  Gimli's eyes darted between Glorfindel and his friend and he opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something until he finally laid his gaze on Celeborn.  The Lord of Lothlórien inclined his head, closing his eyes in the dwarf's direction.  The son of Glóin seemed to understand instantly that whatever was taking place was being done for a reason.  He would have to trust Glorfindel and Celeborn.   
  
The prince looked quickly to the other faces around him as if looking for understanding, but finding nothing of help, he turned to face Glorfindel.  "I will be leaving tomorrow, yes, and good-byes will be said," he stated.  It was a non-committal answer and one that clearly spoke of how little Legolas wish to dwell on this subject.     
  
Glorfindel nodded his head in response, but still spoke.  "You will not see Elladan or Elrohir again will you?"   
  
This time Elrohir spoke out.  "Glorfindel!"  He hissed in warning.     
  
No one wanted to speak of this tonight, for tomorrow would be filled with enough sorrowful good-byes.  The son of Elrond were wondering what in the name of Valar had taken hold of Glorfindel to have him speak thus.  It was most unlike the Elven lord to be so harsh, especially with guests which Legolas was no matter how many times he had visited the Last Homely House.   
  
Glorfindel did not heed the clear warning in Elrohir's voice, but rather kept his eyes locked on Legolas.  The battle lines seemed to be drawn.  
  
"Is there a point to your questions, Lord Glorfindel?"  The younger elf asked through clenched teeth.   
  
The older elf shrugged as if trying to make light of what he had just said.  "I was just realizing that you will probably not make it to Imladris again for your sea-longing seems to be taking hold of you and you must depart else you fall too deeply into despair.  Therefore, I know you will not see the twins again for they are to die and not venture to Valinor."   
  
The blunt manner in which Glorfindel spoke those words caused even Celeborn to cringe though he was aware of what his friend was trying to do.  The others in the room were not as privilege and both of Elrond's sons jumped to their feet shouting at Glorfindel to mind his tongue.  Legolas, to whom the comment was aimed, simply felt his mouth drop in dismay.  Gimli closed his eyes tightly, knowing well what those words would do to his friend.   
  
"Wha…"  The prince attempted to speak.  "What?"  He asked in a hush, breathless tone that was noticeable even through the twin's angered shouting.   
  
Celeborn, realizing that things would only continue to spin out of hand if something was not done now, stood up from his seat and slapped his hand upon the table.  The startling noise caused Elladan and Elrohir to snap their heads in that direction.   
  
"Come," he beckoned to the twins and then turned on heel and strode out of the room.  The sons of Elrond looked at the older elf leave, but did not move.  Instead they kept their gazes on Glorfindel and Legolas.  Gimli, noticing what Celeborn sought to do, noisily rose to his feet.   
  
"Well, I suppose I should see what the crazy elf wants."  He moved past the twins and, not too gently, hit them both in the back of the knees.  They turned to look down at him and the dwarf was mildly taken aback by the fury he saw in their dark eyes.  Still, he did not look away and stared right back hoping his eyes would per say the brothers to do as Celeborn had requested.   
  
It was Elladan who first came away from his anger and realized Glorfindel sought a moment alone with the Legolas.  For what, he could not be certain, although the way in which Glorfindel spoke seemed to suggestion that this moment had been thought up long before dinner.  And so, the older twin elbowed his brother and when Elrohir turned to look at him, Elladan inclined his head towards the door behind him.    
  
"Go,"  Elladan whispered and then grabbed a hold of his twin's elbow actually pulling him from the room.  Legolas did not notice, because he was still looking at Glorfindel with pained expression marring his pale face.  Gimli sparred his friend one last look, hoping the Imladris elf knew what he was doing and then he too departed.   
  
The pair now sat in silence for a long moment until Celeborn returned and took a seat next to the older blond elf, placing the two Lords across from the younger elf.  Legolas finally broke his long held gaze from Glorfindel and turned to the Lord of Lothlórien.   
  
"What is going on?"  He questioned not bothering to hid any of the anger he felt.   
  
Celeborn looked to Glorfindel and, when it appeared he would not speak, answered the prince.  "We were concerned about you," he stated softly.   
  
Legolas' eyebrows shot up.  "Concerned?  If you were so concerned for me why did you not approach me as a civilized beings instead of uttering such repulsive things in the presence of company?"   
  
"Because we knew you would never listen to our words if we did not grab your attention," Glorfindel answered with an apologetic tone.  "I am sorry for my blunt words from before, but they are the truth still and simply burying them beneath elegant speech would not change this."   
  
Almost instantly, Legolas felt his anger drain out of him.  What the Imladris elf had said was the truth.  No matter how one chose to word it the end effect was the same.  His friends, those of whom had not already passed on, were dying.  Celeborn watched the prince carefully and could easily see the moment that the ire left his body.  Replacing the anger was a lost expression that reminded the Lord of Lórien of a certain wood-elf that had ventured into his realm during the War of the Ring.  Legolas had been so very young then, both in age and experience, and he did not carrying the weights that he did now.  He knew that time had not been overly kind to this elf.  The young archer's pains were from seeing, for the first time, those one truly cared for leave forever while there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.  Legolas had finally become a victim to helplessness.  Clearly the wood-elf had never been associated with mortals as closely as he was now, whereas Celeborn had.  The Lord had lost many friends to the plague of mortality, but even with this, he still felt unsure how to help Legolas.   
  
The prince was taking the death of his friends harder than Celeborn had ever seen an elf do so before.  The best that the Lord of Lothlórien could assume was that Legolas was having such a hard time coping with the death of his friend because of what he had shared with them.  The friendships that this elf had formed with mortals was made out of blood and sweat, tears and pain, and even more importantly, an unbiased love that came from having to befriend someone who was to hold your life in their hands.  The companionship of the Fellowship, and those even outside of it, had been forged in darkness and yet it had survived to see the light.  It never mattered that they were from all difference races and backgrounds.  All that mattered was that they had to fight together or else all of Middle-earth would fall to ruin.  They had all bore the weight of Arda on their shoulders and looked to one another to help make this burden be bearable.  To have that bond with someone meant a deep connection of souls that was rare to find.  Yet, Legolas had found this with many different races that shared one quality; all of them were mortals.  And so, it was as if a part of his soul was now slowly dying along with each friend that passed away to a place Legolas could never venture.   
  
Celeborn heard Legolas' soft voice penetrate his deep thoughts are turned his attention to the prince.   
  
"I do not know what to do anymore."  The young elf admitted softly unable to meet either Lords' eye.  "They all have already left or will be leaving me soon."  Neither of the listening Elves had to waste a guess on who 'they' were.  Legolas sighed and his gray eyes then meet Glorfindel and Celeborn's.  "And the sea-long it is…it is…"  He shook he head, unable to come up with the correct word.   
  
"It is torturous,"  Glorfindel began in a quiet voice.  "It seems to pull you in one direction while your entire being wishes to go in another. You feel so empty because of it and yet, at the same time, so fulfilled.  It is both your greatest joy and your worst sorrow."   
  
Legolas dumbly nodded his head.  "It is all that and so much more.  I can no longer control it as I once could.  I know that I must leave, and yet…"   
  
"You cannot."  Celeborn completed the sentence.  "The son of Glóin holds you here."   
  
The elf from Eryn Lasgalen nodded.  "Ai, I cannot leave behind Gimli for my soul will not allow it.  But each moment I stay upon these shores I feel my heart being torn apart by the deaths of my dearest friends and the sea-longing."  Legolas' head fell, his chin nearly resting in his chest.  "Tarrying upon these lands is killing me."   
  
It was such a soft statement and yet carried so much depth and truth to it.  All three Elves knew what the prince said to be true; the grief of the mortal's death and the grief from not crossing the sea, was killing this young elf slowly.  He was fading and all knew that the only thing that could cure the young elf was departure West.     
  
"I never wished for any of this to happen,"  the young elf stated in a voice devoid of emotion.   
  
Celeborn sighed.  "And if there was some way that it could have all been avoided, I would have told you.  Alas, only never befriending the mortals that made you life so full would have saved you this current grief."   
  
"And made my life empty,"  Legolas concluded already having known this and thought long upon it.  The archer looked at his hands and spoke in a whisper.  "If only I could go with them."   
  
Glorfindel shook his head.  "You know you cannot, son of Thranduil.  That is not your path and it never will be whether or not you depart to Valinor or if you are to die upon these shores.  The Hall of Mandos' or the Undying Lands are your only place of final rest and mortals will never tread in either of these places."   
  
"I know," came the meek reply.  "I know."  And Legolas did know.  He had long dwelled on the fact that he could never meet his mortal friends in an afterlife.   
  
Celeborn rose from his seat and moved next to the prince.  Kneeling on the hard ground, the older elf looked up into the gray eyes of the younger elf.  "I do not know what words I can offer to bring you any comfort.  These times are hard and you must believe me when I say that Glorfindel and myself understand this to be true.  We have been where you are now."  He took a deep breath and broke the eye contact.  Gently he closed his eyes for a moment silently recalling the many faces and names of those that he had loved and lost.  This list was far longer than Celeborn wished it to be and daily it seemed names of more loved ones were being added.  All too soon, the sons of Elrond would join this list.  Shaking his head, as if the physical movement would help him lose the memories, Celeborn opened his eyes once again and spoke:   
  
"You must understand, Legolas, that you cannot allow your grief to overcome you."   
  
"But how can I do this?"  The Lord of Ithilien asked.  "How can I be expected to find any sort of understanding in the death of my loved ones?  How do I find absolution in something that I cannot even understand?"   
  
How was it that the beings he had become such dear friends with died?  It was not fair that such wonderful creatures were taken from the land while he, a lowly Elven prince and Lord, was granted the ability to live for all the ages.  Surely Aragorn deserved such a gift.  Frodo and Sam and the countless others were worthier beings and deserved to live forever upon the shores of either Arda or Valinor.  It was not right that Elves alone be given endless measure of time.     
  
But, how much of a gift it is?  Perhaps it is more of a curse, Legolas thought sadly.  He had slowly come to realize that maybe mortals with this strange fate after death and this final peace, were the lucky ones.   
  
"I can find no understanding in something that I do not even know if it is a gift or a curse!"  The prince nearly cried in desperation.     
  
"Absolution will never come here, son of Thranduil, of this I know.  I have never found it upon these shores."  Glorfindel's fair voice was etched in sadness.  "I do, however, believe that I will find the understanding I seek in Valinor."   
  
There was conviction in the elf of Imladris' voice that caused Legolas to cringe.  Glorfindel held such hope for the Undying Lands and yet, the prince did not feel this hope.  He did not believe that the lands at the end of the sea would bring him any understanding.     
  
Abruptly the Lord of Ithilien stood causing Celeborn to also stand awkwardly as to not be pushed over by the Elven prince.   
  
"You have far more faith in Valinor than I do, my Lords," Legolas nearly hissed.  The younger elf moved to the door and stopped just before he left.  His shoulders slumped,  "I bid you both farewell and I wish you the best of luck with your time remaining upon these shore."  The blond head straightened and Legolas turned to look at both older Elves.  "May you have a safe journey, my Lords."  With that he turned and strode out of the room.   
  
Celeborn turned to Glorfindel wondering if they should following the elf, but the warrior of Imladris only shook his head.   
  
"We will not be able to help him any.  He can find no abatement from his grief from us."  The elf sighed.  "It is only something he will be able to find within."   
  
Celeborn looked up to the door that Legolas had left from and in a soft voice spoke, "Farewell, Legolas Thranduillion.  Valar willing you will find your peace one day."  

TBC 


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas' tale of saying good-bye to everything that is Middle-earth: the people, the places, and the memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

The twins of Elrond bid the son of Glóin a fond farewell and Legolas watched Gimli move past him to prepared for departure. The archer stepped to Elladan and Elrohir and the three Elves waited until the dwarf was out of ear shot, for this parting was to be kept between the trio. The prince sighed and looked up to the twins of Elrond. He mentally grimaced as he realized that this was just another goodbye to those that he would never see again. Tears of sorrow came unbidden to the prince's eyes, yet he did not wipe them away.

Elladan broke the depressed silence with a soft voice, "I fear that this is the final good-bye, Legolas."

"Indeed it is." He stated with a voice choked in anguish. The archer took a deep breath to calm himself. "I do not think I can handle any more farewells, my friends. I fear these will be the death of me." Legolas smiled humorlessly for his words, though said lightly, carried much truth.

Elrohir stepped closer to the blond elf and put a hand upon his shoulder. "T'is the curse of the immortal life, I fear. We are forced to watch others we love bid us farewell forever."

The prince looked at the twins with confusion clear on his face. "We?" He asked and shook his head. "Nay, not we, for this is a curse you two no longer bear." A chill entered Legolas' fair voice and Elrohir dropped his arms from the archer's shoulder as if he had been scolded.

Elladan now stepped forward to stand next to his twin and he lowered his voice, "Do not do this, son of Thranduil." His voice held a small warning. "Do not make this goodbye harder than it already is."

And then, as if made of a brittle twig, Legolas snapped. The sorrow that had over-taken his being for so long now was replaced by righteous anger. He was tired of feeling pain and found that ire was much easier to deal with.

"You do not know how hard this is!" He exclaimed although he knew that they did. They knew all too well how hard these good-byes were. Though the pain of death was still a harsh reality Legolas felt that there had to be some comfort in knowing that one day Elladan and Elrohir would be reunited with the other mortals who had left before them.

The Lord of Ithilien was granted no such comfort.

Legolas felt his anger continue to grow and he knew aiming it at Elrond's twins was unfair to them, but he continued nonetheless. "You two," he pointed an accusatory finger at the sons of Elrond, "will follow mortals. Mortals whom I have loved for many long years. You two will be with them for all eternity while I will be forced to live forever alone in Valinor." Legolas shook his head as if trying to rid his mind of these horrible thoughts. "These mortals were," he shook his head in correction, "are my family; you must be able understand! They are as much mine family as they are yours and both of you will be able to see them again. How dare you two take the choice of a mortal life while some of us are not blessed thus!"

Elladan and Elrohir shared a look between them and the former spoke gently. "Legolas, my friend, do not give into despair yet. Gimli, your elf-friend, is still by your side."

Grey eyes filled with sorrow flashed to meet Elladan's own gaze. "He will leave me soon enough." Legolas said in a bitter voice. "He will die like the rest of you."

"But he is not gone yet," Elrohir argued. "Hold true to him and the time you both still have together." Elladan nodded and his twin continued, "Gimli will leave your side, Legolas, this cannot be denied, but do you truly wish to waste those years you both have left in a blur of sorrow? Think of all the joy you may still gain from him!" Again his hand grabbed Legolas' shoulder.

For a moment the three Elves remained standing as thus and the only sound between them was the Lord of Ithilien's somewhat erratic breathing. Finally, Legolas looked up with a smile attempting to grace his features.

"I am sorry for I take my sorrow out on the both of you when I know that you two bear the pain of many partings also."

Elladan smiled bitter sweetly, "Many bear this pain as of late, son of Thranduil. It is what we knew would one day happen."

"It is a curse," Legolas said softly.

"Yes, I suppose it could be viewed as one, but think of all you have seen and my still see."

The prince sighed. "I would rather be allowed to follow mortals to that place unknown to our kin than see any new sights. No place offers me peace anymore."

Elladan breathed deeply while collecting his thoughts. Grief had truly taken a tight hold upon this young elf and it appeared as if it would not be broken any time in the near future. Like the Legolas said, Middle-earth no longer represented a place of peace to him, but rather was a reminder of all the pain that he had suffered at the loss of those he loved.

"Perhaps, it is time than for you to depart these shores, " Elladan spoke with a small measure of hope in his voice. "The Undying Lands await you and the Valar would help ease your pain."

The prince shook his head, "I cannot leave Gimli yet. As you both have said he is the only joy I seem able to find here ."

Elrohir shrugged and stated, "Bring him with you. The hobbits were able to journey West. Certainly, the son of Glóin, an elf-friend and member of the Fellowship, would be allowed just as well."

Legolas swallowed and looked at Elrond's son for a long, silent moment as if contemplating what he had said.

"The hobbits were Ring Bearers," he argued and lowered his voice self-consciously.

"Gimli is a dwarf."

"And a Vala, created the dwarves. He would be welcomed, I know." Elladan stated, finding his brother's suggestion to be the only thing that could bring Legolas hope.

And then, Legolas laughed. It was not the same sweet silver laugh of old, but neither was it filled with insurmountable pain.

"How absurd would a dwarf in Valinor be?!" All three Elves shared a smile and fell into comfortable silence.

Elladan was the first to break that silence. "It has been a long time, dear friend."

And, indeed, it had. Many long years had past since the young prince of the Mirkwood had been a part of his father's entourage to Imaldris. Then he was a small and timid elf that had found himself the victim of many pranks by the older elves. Yet, somehow they had found themselves forming a friendship even though they were from two different realms that had a tense history. Over the years, the bond between the three only grew stronger. Together the trio had set out on many hunting trips, been reprimanded by both their respective fathers countless times and even made it an unspoken promise to torment poor Aragorn as a small lad. It had been many years and, with each passing one, the closeness of the trio had never faded.

But now the ever-famous and ever-troublesome trio was going to be broken. This time it was no longer a simple parting as the Elves went their respective ways, but for all of time.

There was much to be said, all three knew, and yet at times such as these a simple look spoke louder and conveyed more than any words ever could.

"I shall miss you both terribly," Legolas stated softly. "I shall even miss those horrible pranks you both we so fond of pulling on me."

Elrohir smiled. "One would think you would learn with time."

The blond elf shook his head. "It appears I did not."

Elrohir reached out and pulled the younger into a tight embrace as his mind drifted back and he pictured the lankly prince of Mirkwood who had hidden behind his father. "Take care of yourself, my brother."

Elladan then pulled Legolas into an embrace. "May you find the peace you deserve."

Legolas then stepped back and smiled warmly, albeit sadly, to the brothers. "I pray you both also find your peace."

And then without another word, Legolas turned from the brothers and walked away. He closed his eyes, but did not stop his feet from moving forwards. If he looked back, he knew he would never again be able to leave the side of Elrond's sons. Parting from them was also his good-bye to Imladris. He would never return to this place no matter if he stayed upon the shores of Middle-earth for another thousand years. He could never return to this place again for the memories would be far too much for him to handle.

For never again would Elrond's wisdom be spoken in his hushed, yet powerful voice. Glorfindel's tales of wonder would never be heard by a younger, entranced generation. The twins contagious laughter echoing through the halls after one of their latest pranks had been a success was now a thing only in the memories of a few. Arwen radiant face, her beauty almost paling that of Imladris, would never grace those Elven halls again. Aragorn, as a youth and then a powerful King, would never walk the only place he had ever considered home with the only people he ever considered family. It was because of these things that would never again be in Imladris that Legolas knew returning again could not happen. It would not be the same place that he had grown to love without those that he had grown to love there, for they had made the Last Homely House wonderful and special.

And so it was with a heavy heart that Legolas Greenleaf walked away from Imladris, never to return.

The elf and dwarf rode in complete silence for the first day and now were camped beneath an enclave of trees. Gimli and Legolas were both dealing with the grief of leaving behind Imladris in their own way and, though they knew the other would offer support and friendship, they did not wish to plague the other with their own problems. The son of Glóin , however, had taken notice of how despondent his companion had been the further they set out from the Elven kingdom and knew that the son of Thranduil suffered from something much deeper than a parting of friends. He knew that Legolas' grief was not solely for the twin brothers they had left behind or the Elven Lords of whom Legolas would not see until he past to the Valinor. No, Gimli knew, the prince's sadness was for all those that he had lost and, the dwarf thought with no small measure of sorrow, those that he would still lose.

Though Gimli also felt the pain of these partings there was a sense of comfort in knowing that he would one day see his friends again in that place beyond life. The dwarf understood the peace that his mortal friends found. It was a peace that he one day hoped to find and, in truth, knew he would. Legolas, however, could not understand this nor accept it. That crazy elf would never be able to grasp that someone would tire of life and would look forward to the day they could rest.

"I have to leave, elvellon." The statement was so light that the dwarf barely heard it and yet the weight that was in that simple sentence rang louder in Gimli head than a thousand drums ever could.

"What?" He asked, his voice sounding like a shout in comparison to his friend's and the deep baritone caused Legolas to flinch as if he was being scolded.

The prince sighed deeply and turned to his long time companion. "I cannot linger much longer, Gimli. The call of the sea grows each time I loose a friend. The sea is pulling me stronger now that Aragorn has left these lands." Legolas gave the son of Glóin a small bittersweet smile. "The King of Gondor somehow held me to these shores."

"He held you here?" The dwarf questioned with no malice or anger in his voice. He had always known that the bond between the man and this particular elf ran deep. Perhaps deeper than his own with Legolas and he knew that the loss of the man would have a significant effect upon the archer.

"Yes," the son of Thranduil admitted. "From the moment I first befriended Aragorn I knew I would always follow him. To my very death if that is the case. But later," the elf suddenly frowned, "I realized that perhaps one person was not enough to keep the sea-longing at bay. Somehow during the long journeys I made across Middle-earth all of the mortal friends I had grown attached to slowly made Aragorn's influence upon the sea-longing lesson slightly. It was no longer for just him that I lingered, it was for all that I loved." Legolas smiled slightly to Gimli, but then the gesture left his face and he spoke again. "Yet, then these friends have pass on and I came to realize that the sea-longing latches on to my pain and increases its tempo within my head. With each friend I am forced to part from the sea tries to fill that void. And now the voids are so many that the sea is nearly completely inside me now."

The son of Thranduil bowed his head. "With the loss of Aragorn and that staple, the call became so powerful I truly sought to leave the night Arwen left."

This information caused Gimli's gaze to snap up from the fire and lock on the elf across from him. "You sought to leave?" He asked with astonishment coloring his voice.

"Yes, I did." Legolas' answered quickly and then adverted his eyes from the dwarf's dark ones. "I had even gone to the stables with my things and was going to depart when I stopped. I could not leave even though Aragorn had left." The full weight of an Elven glare hit Gimli and the dwarf was nearly tempted to look away. "Do you know why I did not leave, elvellon?"

The dwarf did. "You did not leave because of me."

"Yes," The elf affirmed. "Without me being aware of it you became the new link holding me to Middle-earth. And yet, even now I do not know if it is strong enough to keep me on Arda. The sea is very powerful and she is trying to pull me away---"

"---much harder than anything is trying to make you stay," Gimli completed. A bitter taste resided in the dwarf's mouth at this statement. He was terribly loathed to admit it for he felt that his friendship with Legolas was one of the purest and strongest he had even known in his life and was confident enough to say that the elf felt much the same way. To admit that his friendship was not enough to keep the elf bound to Middle-earth was painful. It was as if he was admitting defeat to a greater foe; something the Dwarven pride never allowed him to do.

"No." The son of Glóin stated softly but with venom in his voice. No, he would not allow the sea to claim his friend; he would not lose this fight!

"What?" Legolas questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"No." Gimli restated with all the strength of his body behind that single word. "I will not allow the sea to take you."

The prince stared at his friend for a long moment in surprise. Then a sad smile crossed his face. "It is not your choice, Gimli."

The dwarf was not deterred though. "Ai, but it is yours. You can fight this, son of Thranduil. I know you can." The dwarf stood and it appeared that the fire before his also rose in intensity with the dwarf's words. "I have seen you fight worse battles than this and come out of them completely unharmed. You are an elf; one of the Eldar. I want to see this claimed Elven strength now!"

Legolas felt his friend's anger drift over him and all he could do was shake his head, spilling blond hair across his back and face. "I have been fighting it for so long. I grow weary of this battle." Eyes that appeared young and old; kind and cold; wise and immature, rose to meet the dwarf's own dark hazel eyes. There was pain in those eyes that was deeper than Gimli ever recalled seeing. "Please try to understand."

The pleading in the elf's voice mirrored that of his eyes and the son of Glóin felt his face flush with shame. He was asking more of his companion than Legolas was able to give. It was like the elf asking him not to succumb to the fate of mortals; it was something beyond both of their controls. Fate had been sealed for these two friends and this was on battle neither could hope to win.

"I ask you to do the impossible, but I cannot bear to think of being parted from you." It had to have been the most honest proclamation of his feelings that Gimli ever made and Legolas smiled.

"And I do not wish to think of the time when I will leave you and so let us not!" Crystal laughter fell from the archer's lips surprising the dwarf. Gimli found himself smiling in response to the change in mood. "Let us live as all men do."

The dwarf cocked his head to the side in question and another laugh fell from the Elven prince's lips. "Let us live for the here and now and not be bother with the future."

Gimli laughed deeply. "We shall do just that, my friend."

Though the pain of the partings that had gone and those that were to come did not leave either traveler, for this single night they found peace and friendship with one another and it seemed as if the shadow of sorrow was lifted for a brief moment.

The remainders of the evening passed with laughter between the two old friends as they re-lived the happier times of their lives. There was not one mention of the future or even one of the present. The night was dedicated to their friends and the journeys they had made together. It was a night to live in the past and they did just that.

But morning soon came.

Legolas awoke first, as he was accustomed to while in the company of Gimli. For a long hour the elf sat and watched his friend sleep. Though there was a snoring sound being emitted at every intake of air, the son of Thranduil did not think he had ever seen a more calming sight. He was well aware that there would not be many more mornings where he would be able to watch his friend. As a matter of fact, this could be the last time for a long while because Legolas assumed Gimli would head home to the Glittering Caves.

However, the Lord of Ithilien knew that he had to see his father before he departed over the sea. Thranduil still had not left for Valinor and Legolas knew the King would not be happy to hear that his youngest son would be leaving for the Undying Lands before him.

His father would indeed not be happy, but Legolas was certain that he would understand. After the War of the One Ring and before he had settled in Ithilien, the prince had come home to let all know he was well. Within the first moments Thranduil had laid his eyes upon his son, he had known of the sea-longing. It, the King had said, was clear in Legolas' eyes. He could see the light of the forest dimmed and replaced by a soft sorrow that came about from longing of something that could not be had at the present time. At first the Thranduil had been angry, blaming Aragorn for making his child tread so close to the sea, but then younger elf had explained Lady Galadriel's warning to him.

Incomprehension took the place of angry. Why, the King had asked. Why did you journey when you knew that this would happen?

And, for the first time since Legolas had done that damning deed, he told someone his reason.

It was my duty.

It had been, too. From the first step that the Fellowship had taken outside of Imladris, the prince knew that he would follow this deed to its end. By the time came to decide whether or not he would follow the future King through the Paths of the Dead, there was no question about it. His father had not understood how his son could be so loyal to a mortal, but Thranduil had understood his son's sense of duty. And so, Thranduil mourned the younger elf's loss of love for the forest, but did not despair for, in truth, he was proud of his youngest son. He could never and would never fault Legolas for doing all that he had done during the War of the Ring no matter the consequences. He would see his child again in Valinor and that was all that mattered to the King.

Well, Father, you will be seeing me sooner than you may think for our goodbye, the Legolas thought to himself and, as if his musing were out loud rather than mentally, Gimli began to rouse from sleep as if he had been disturbed.

"Good morning, evellon." Legolas greeted in a voice laced with chipperness.

The dwarf grunted his greeting and allowed himself a few more moments before he was coherent enough to say more.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Just over an hour," the elf answered.

Gimli nodded and rose to stretch. As he did so, Legolas asked, "Where are you going to go?"

The question stirred the dwarf out of his thoughts and he stared at Legolas for a long moment as the words sunk in.

"I had not thought of that. I suppose I could go back to the Glittering Caves."

"Ai, yes, they do need their Lord." The dwarf glared at the elf. For some unknown reason Legolas found great pleasure in making certain that Gimli's title of 'Lord' was used at all possible times. It did not help matters that the elf had been a prince before a Lord and was well use to titles of royalty so any attempts at return the favor did not work to the son of Glóin 's behalf.

"What are you planning?"

"I plan to go to Eryn Lasgalen."

Gimli furled in brows. "Eryn Lasgalen?" He echoed.

Legolas nodded. "I need to say goodbye to my father and my home."

Suddenly all the sorrow from the previous night came back to the pair. There was nothing that could be said that had not be uttered last night, though Gimli longed to tell his friend not to go home; not to say farewell just yet. For, if Legolas said goodbye to his family and forest he had known all his life, then the only one left was Gimli. And it would be far too easy to leave the dwarf without so much of a word.

"I am going with you."

The statement seemed to take Legolas by surprise if the flash of confusion that crossed his face was any indication. It was not so much that the elf did not want his friend to go, far from that, but he did not think the son of Glóin would wish to make such a journey.

"Gimli…" The elf began and the dwarf knew that Legolas would attempt to convince him against going.

"No," he stated firmly in a true showing of Dwarven stubbornness. "I am going and that is the end of it."

The son of Thranduil opened his mouth as if to argue, but then released a sigh and nodded his head. "Very well," he said and that was the end of it.

By mid-morning the two travelers were on their way heading east towards the Hall of the Elven King.

TBC 


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas' tale of saying good-bye to everything that is Middle-earth: the people, the places, and the memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Gimli could sense a change in his friend that made him realize they were getting rather close to the main hall of Mirkwood.

Nay, the son of Glóin corrected himself mentally, Eryn Lasgalen. The shadow has been lifted and the Greenwoods are made great once again. For far too long the forest of Thranduil had been in darkness and known as Mirkwood; it was refreshing to know that the woods were slowly being restored to what they once had been.

The elf in front of Gimli straightened his back suddenly and began to sing a soft song. The movement had caused the son of Glóin to grab Legolas' waist to keep from being jostled. It was not so much that the dwarf did not like horses, but more so that he did not trust them with, he felt, proper cause. Arod, a horse of Rohan, had been bad enough to get use to, but this current beast that the Lord of Ithilien had been so taken with was much worse. Thenidaul seemed to make it his joy in life to have the dwarf bumped around every which way. Elvish horses are just like Elves themselves. Gimli snorted. They seem to find mirth is causing others to pain, both physical and mental!

"Pry tell what is so amusing, Master dwarf?" Legolas questioned halting his song while he turned slightly to look at his friend.

"Watch the road," Gimli replied avoiding the question.

The elf's laughter echoed in the trees, but he did as the dwarf had said and faced forward once again. Smiling because of his companion's humor, Gimli moved his head to gaze out at the forest that surrounded them. The smooth voice of Legolas seemed to move throughout the trees and, though the dwarf felt rather silly for thinking so, he could almost see the trees sway in rhythm to the prince's voice. It had taken Gimli a long time, and many observations, before he had finally seen that Legolas did possessed a certain connection to nature. It was something that the dwarf found truly amazing.

The song came to a second stop putting Gimli on his guard for Legolas' head tilted to the side, an obvious sign the elf was listening carefully. A loud whistle, carefully masked in the sound of a songbird, broke through the silence. Legolas released a soft chuckle before responding with a whistle of the same tone. Suddenly, the trees were no longer silent as leaves rustled with the movement of Elves that no longer sought stealth.

"We are home." The prince announced and promptly jumped off the back of Thenidaul. Gimli grumbled under his breath as he slid off the horse's back to join his friend on the ground. No sooner had his feet touched the earth, then three Elves jumped from the trees around them to join the duo on the ground.

"My Lord!" Gimli watched with amusement as Legolas seemed to cringe slightly with the title.

Even back in the colony of Elves in Ithilien, where Legolas held the title of Lord not just prince, the elf refused to allow anyone to call his thus. He had always said that he was in no way above any of his citizens. Little did the elf know, but the reason why all the Elves sought to call him 'Lord' was because they had the utmost respect for Legolas. Gimli knew this better than anyone being the elf's best friend for he himself had the utmost respect for the son of Thranduil. Legolas, however, rarely felt that he was deserving of the title and had made it nearly law that no one was to address him as 'Lord'.

Apparently the Eryn Lasgalen Elves had not been privy to this and the dwarf was not entirely surprised that his friend did not correct them. Although Gimli had only met Legolas' father once, and for a short time when the pair had been passing through on their sightseeing of Middle-earth, the son of Glóin knew Thranduil to hold the idea of royalty in high regard. No doubt he would not allow his subjects to call their prince anything less than a 'Lord' and no doubt Legolas hated it. Though Gimli knew that Thranduil's son held his father in the highest respect and therefore would do as the King wished. Yet, the dwarf also knew that there were many things that Legolas would not do that his father wished and there were also many things that the prince would do that his father wished he did not.

I am clearly one such example, Gimli thought with a mental grin.

The dwarf knew that Thranduil had to have been utterly beside himself when Legolas had told him that he not only wanted to make a dwarf an elvellon but, this particular dwarf was Glóin 's son. In truth, Gimli wished he could have seen the reaction upon the King's face. Legolas, when he had told his friend that his father knew of their friendship and granted the title, had not been very forthright with how Thranduil had truly reacted. Since then, Gimli had not been back to Thranduil's halls to see the King.

This may be an interesting visit. Gimli was not certain that the King of Eryn Lasgalen was prepared to handle both the dwarf and the goodbye that his son would impart on his father. Interesting indeed.

The pair of friends, now accompanied with half a dozen guards, rode under the large trees of Lasgalen. Though Gimli knew the Elves in current company with him did not enjoy the dwarf being in their realm (if the glares being directed at him were any indication) he also knew that they would speak no ill of him in their prince's company. Although, the son of Glóin also knew that Legolas was well aware of the looks the Elves were giving Gimli, and was only holding his tongue to save the dwarf embarrassment.

That crazy elf must think I'm blind if he think I do not see those glares of his kin. Gimli was not overly concerned with those stares for he was well accustomed to them. Lothlórien had not given him the grandest of welcomes and, even after he had Lady Galadriel's blessing and Legolas' friendship, the glares did not stop. Certainly he and his elf-friend had to be two large oddities of their races, for they were able to put aside past prejudices of their races and form a strong friendship because of it.

The entire trip into the realm of the wood-elf King was made in silence although a very tense one. Gimli could sense that Legolas was uncomfortable around his kin after so long though he did not utter a word to state this. It was not surprising that Legolas would find himself out of place among the Elves of Eryn Lasgalen, after all it had been many years since prince had last returned. Sparing a glance at the lithe figures riding beside himself and Legolas, Glóin's son could see the glances that the other Elves sent at their prince. While not filled with hostility, neither were they the warmest of looks. Gimli felt Legolas sigh and knew that his friend was not unaware of the looks he was receiving. Leaning forward, the dwarf spoke right into the elf's ear.

"You should say something." He whispered hoping his voice was low enough that the ears of Legolas' kin could not hear.

The archer only shook his head. "It is not something to concern yourself with.." And that was all Legolas said and Gimli knew that conversation was over. Sighing in a slightly louder fashion, Glóin's son relaxed in the saddle and faced forward. Gimli contented himself to pass the rest of the journey with a blank mind. Before long, he noticed a chance in the scenery around him and, from his other visit to this realm, knew that they were getting closer to the main court of Eryn Lasgalen. Straightening himself as much as possible, Gimli held his chin up as they group of Elves came to a stop before the large gates of the inner palace.

An elf from the party moved forward and uttered a silent password (one that was done quiet enough that Gimli could not hear it) and the great doors opened. Together the Elves, and single dwarf, rode into Thranduil's home.

Upon their entrance into the main outer court of the palace,Gimli saw that King Thranduil waiting for them. The son of Glóin hid his surprise, but Legolas did not. The blond archer turned to face one of the companions from the forest.

"You did not tell me that my father would be waiting for us." He hissed in a low tone.

The elf that he spoke to only shrugged. "You did not ask."

The prince appeared as if he was going to say more, but held his tongue as he noticed the party had moved closer to Thranduil. Legolas locked eyes upon his King and slowed his steed to stop just a few feet in front of the older elf. The Lord of Ithilien jumped from Thenidaul and moved in front of his father.

"My Lord." He said formally.

"Prince Legolas, if you would please follow me." Thranduil commanded lightly but with no room for argument. The prince nodded and followed his father into the royal chambers that were just beyond the doors. He turned just before he entered and spoke.

"Please see that my friend gets something to eat." He then addressed Gimli, "I should not be long and please enjoy the hospitality of the Elves of my home."

The son of Glóin smiled encouragingly to his friend and nodded. Legolas made his way into the chambers and the dwarf slowly slid off of the horse. He faced three of the Elves that they had met in the forest.

"Well," he said merrily. "Let's see what your kingdom has to eat." The Elves appeared as if they would say something, but held their tongue out of respect for their prince.

"Yes," an elf named Emlin said with a smile. Gimli smiled lightly to glad to see that the Elves of Eryn Lasgalen would attempt to make him as comfortable as possible as Legolas spoke with his father. Silently, the dwarf sent his friend support as he said what needed to be said with Thranduil.

Father and son stood across from each other looking so alike and yet so different. Thranduil and his child both shared the same blond hair that seemed to glow with its own light, but where the King's features where chiseled and spoke heavily of a warrior, Legolas' own face held a softness to it that was inherited from his mother. Thranduil possessed a strong shoulder line and wide frame, Legolas was a lithe, almost cat-like in figure and it appeared as if a strong breeze would make him stumble. The eyes of the two elf's seemed to be representative of day and night; Legolas' soft gray eyes like the pale sky at dawn, and Thranduil's dark blue eyes like the midnight sky. Both, however, were beautiful in their own way and one could clearly see they were from the same bloodline of noble birth.

"Father," the younger elf said and inclined his head.

The King watched his son and waited for Legolas' eyes to meet his own once again. When they did so, Thranduil smiled and stepped forward. Without a word, he pulled his son into a hug, clasping a hand on the back of Legolas' head.

"My child," he whispered gently while holding the slightly shorter elf against his shoulder. Long had Thranduil awaited his youngest son's return and, now that it had come, he felt joy that he had not known in a long time enter his soul. It had been far too long without this prince and, while two of Legolas' elder siblings still inhabited Eryn Lasgalen, he realized that he almost needed the joy of the child that so dearly reminded him of his departed wife.

Reluctantly, the King released Legolas and held his son an arm's length away as if looking for injury. The archer allowed his father this moment of parental concerned knowing that all too soon such an event would not occur for some time.

"It is good to see you, little leaf."

A smiled graced Legolas' features. "You have not called me that for many years, Father."

Thranduil returned the smile. "It is still a fitting title, though. You will forever be the little Greenleaf of these halls no matter where you are."

The prince's smile slowly fell from his face and, as much as it pained him, he felt tears well in his eyes. "Soon I will be far away from these halls, Father. Perhaps too far for you to remember me as the little Greenleaf of your kingdom."

Thranduil stared long into his youngest son's eyes as if looking for something.

Then he saw it.

He remembered that haunted look that lingered in Legolas' gray eyes for he had seen it before. His eldest son and daughter had already departed over the sea after their mother had passed to the Halls of Mandos' and Thranduil would never forget that haunting emptiness that had resided in their once bright eyes. It was as if their souls were slowly dying and their inner light was being blacked out. He had also remembered seeing the start of this terrible disease in Legolas' soft eyes when he had journeyed back from the War of the One Ring. There was no way to hide sea-longing and its effects, especially from a parent. Yet, at the time, Legolas' longing was not all-encompassing as it was now. The King of Eryn Lasgalen finally understood. His child was leaving. His youngest, the last gift from his beloved wife, was no longer going to bless the shores of Arda.

"You're departing?" Though the King questioned his son though he knew the answer already.

Legolas blinked back the tears that had threatened to spill over. "Yes. I cannot bear to be on these shores any longer. The pain is terrible, Father. I do not think my soul can survive if I am to stay."

Thranduil took in a deep breath of air and closed his eyes as if trying to block out the words that his son had spoken. The younger elf watched this and then stepped forward to placed his soft hand on his father forearm.

"I am sorry. If I could stay please believe that I would."

The Elf-King opened his eyes and smiled sadly down to his child. "I do not seek to bring you further pain, my son, and I do not wish for you to suffer any longer. It is just that I do not want to see you to leave." Thranduil placed his larger hand over Legolas and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You are my youngest child and should not be forced to depart before your father."

"I know," the prince answered. "I wish this did not have to happen."

Thranduil nodded. "We shall meet again, though, of this I know. This is only a parting for a short time, little leaf."

A single tear fell from the Legolas' eyes. "I know."

King and Prince, father and son, then embraced. Legolas buried his face into his Thranduil's robes, inhaling the scent that had so often reminded him of home. He felt his father tighten the hug and then, to his horror, the young elf felt tears begin to fall from his eyes before he could stop them. It had been so long since he had cried, and even longer since he had shed tears in front of his father, but now he found he could not stop. His lithe frame shook ever so slightly and Legolas could feel Thranduil rubbing his hand over his back in a soothing rhythm. Soft words of comfort were also being uttered by the King and their effect only caused the tears to flow easier.

For long moments, father and son stayed thus. Though the prince did not know it, tears also streaked down Thranduil's face as he held his crying child who wept not only for the family and home he would leave behind, but also for all those that he had already lost never to find again. The King knew well what his youngest son was suffering these last painful years as all the mortals he had grown to love died before his very eyes as he was powerless to stop it. Thranduil had known the day would come when his child would leave as the pain of death overtook him. He just never knew it would be so soon.

"I am sorry, Father." Thranduil heard his son and he shook his head.

"Nay, little leaf, there is nothing to be sorry for. You knew what would happen and yet you still did what you had to do. I am proud of you, my child."

Legolas sighed deeply and then removed himself from his father arms. He looked into the King's eyes and smiled sadly. "Thank you." The younger elf sighed sadly. "Will you please tell Maethor and Eithew what I have done? I do not have the heart to tell them myself and I believe they will find more understanding from your words then my own."

The King nodded. "I shall tell your brother and sister."

The two Elves stood still for a moment knowing that their time together was coming to an end.

Thranduil stepped forward and clasped his son's arm. "I wish you the best of luck, young prince of the Greenwoods."

Legolas bowed low before his father. "Till we meet again, my father."

The younger elf turned and began to walk away, but his name being called caused him to turn around and he looked back to see his father had not moved. For a moment, there was silence and then Thranduil spoke. "Though I fear I shall regret this, my son, I beseech you to bring the dwarf with you. I can see that leaving the son of Glóin behind will be the sorrow-filled end for you. The Lady Galadriel holds him in her light and he shall be welcomed."

The Lord of Ithilien looked at his father in awe and then smiled. He nodded his head and then turned once more to walk away from his father and the halls that had been his home for almost two thousand years. It was the place that he had grown up in, where he and his siblings caused more havoc than a band of orcs. It was full of memories, both sad and wonderful, and Legolas knew that no matter where he went he would forever hold the Greenwoods in his heart.

Turning again he slowly began to walk towards the large doors that would open to show him his father's courtyard. The prince knew that Thranduil stood watching the back of his youngest son, but Legolas did not look back. Moving forward he placed his hand upon the door and gently pushed it open. Sunlight assaulted him, but he merely blinked and looked out wards. Gimli stood waiting by their horse and the elf merely smiled at him. Without a word, he offered his hand for Gimli to rise on the back of the steed and, once the dwarf was settled, he jump onto her with grace. Pulling slightly, he turned Thenidaul and the odd duo heading towards the gates that had entered barely an hour ago.

Glóin 's son found himself growing concerned at the short time spent within the palace, but he knew better than to say anything. Elves, and especially his friend, did things a different way and the dwarf was content to know that what needed to be said had been.

As the pair moved forward, Legolas turned and met the gazes of his kin that had gathered. He knew that they understood what he was doing and so only smiled and nodded to those that he recognized. Tears shown in the eyes of many that watched their prince depart and Legolas felt his heart grow heavy as he moved closer to the gates that would take him forever away from Eryn Lasgalen.

Soon the riders on Thenidaul found themselves before the great gates. They opened smoothly and slowly the steed walked past the Elvish doors. The prince felt his throat constrict as the sound of soft Elvish singing reached his ears. The hymn was enchanting but sorrow colored its tone making the song sound almost haunting. Gimli heard the music clearly too though did not understand the words.

"What do they sing, Legolas?"

The archer smiled sadly, "It is a song of parting." He paused and allowed the soft music to float over him. Listening closely, he could make out the unmistakable sound of his father's deep baritone. "It is sung for the prince that is leaving the shore of Arda to rest in the Undying Lands."

The son of Glóin signed, but said nothing and allowed Legolas to listen to the words of his kin as they said good-bye to their fair prince.

All to soon, though, the song drifted away until Gimli could no longer hear it and then the words became silent to Legolas. The company rode onwards in the direction of the Glittering Caves, for it was there that the son of Glóin would depart from the son of Thranduil. Then Legolas knew he would journey home to Ithilien and finally make his way to the sea.

It was time for him to leave.

 TBC 


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas' tale of saying good-bye to everything that is Middle-earth: the people, the places, and the memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

The two friends continued away Eryn Lasgalen in silence; the soft clapping of their horse's hooves the only sound to echo in the vast forest.  Neither wanted to speak, for both knew that words filled with partings and pain could be the only things uttered.  It was time for Legolas to leave; all that he wished to do had been done and he needed his final rest upon the shores of Valinor.  Gimli understood this and, unlike the evening prior, he would not argue his friend into staying.  The dwarf cared for the prince far too much to see him in any further pain.

Legolas, unlike the son of Glóin, did not dwell on the soon parting from the dwarf, but instead, allowed himself to travel through the vast memories that occupied his mind.  He watched each moment as if their were on a screen before his eyes and allowed himself to bask in all that he had seen and done upon the shores of Middle-earth.  It was as his mind drifted that he heard the voice of Thranduil echo in his head.

I beseech you to bring the dwarf with you.

A second after his father's words drifted into his head, Legolas' eyes shot open in surprise.  It was all so clear now; it was as so many had told him again and again.  Gimli was to travel with him!  A smile broke through Legolas' fair features and then a mirth-filled laugh followed. For a long moment, his silver laughter fell from his soft lips, while Gimli stared at the back of his friend's. As quickly as the laughter had started it ended, leaving the companions in silence once more. The son of Glóin waited for the elf to say something, anything, to explain his strange behavior, but nothing was forth-coming. 

"Legolas?" The son of Glóin questioned carefully as he felt concern for his friend's sanity rising.

Without a word, the Lord of Ithilien jumped off the back of his steed and landed gently on the ground. The elf turned around and looked directly at Gimli.  The dwarf was shocked to see something that he had thought was lost from his friend in Legolas' pale eyes: hope. For a moment the dwarf was speechless as he looked into the gray eyes of his friend.

"Legolas?" The dwarf questioned again feeling his voice crack at the sheer intensity of Legolas' stare.  He had long hoped to see such happiness in the elf's orbs again and, seeing it now, made his heart pound erratically in his chest.  He longed to know what made such a change in his friend.

"Come with me."  The archer simply said.

Gimli blinked in confusion. "To where?"

A brilliant smile broke across the elf's face that reached his eyes and the depth of his soul. The son of Glóin found himself smiling in return without even understanding why.

"To Valinor."

The dwarf felt his mouth drop open and a gasp of shock fall from his mouth before he had a chance to silence it. "I cannot go there," he protested unsure what his friend was thinking. "A dwarf in the Undying Lands is incomprehensible."

The prince moved forward and grasped one of Gimli calloused hand. "Elvellon, I do not care whether or not they will accept you there. I want you there and that is all that matters. I need you there, Gimli, for I cannot leave with you still here, but I cannot stay upon these shores."

The dwarf did not know what to say. He was being asked to journey someplace that dwarves were never suppose to go. He was being asked to forsake Middle-earth for a place where he may never be accepted. Yet, looking at Legolas, Gimli knew his answer without a doubt.

"I will come with you."

And that was all that needed to be said. Legolas smiled broadly once again and then moved back onto the proper place in front of Gimli on Thenidaul. He gently urged the horse forward and soon the pair of travelers were on their way. They would still go to the Glittering Caves, but there would be no sad parting among those caves.  Instead, Gimli would journey with Legolas to Ithilien where good-byes to the Elven realm would be done and from there they would depart Middle-earth together.

Their friendship had been forged against all odds. It was been made in the darkest times and survived them. Now, it would survive against all odds and live in the light of the Valar. They would both finally find the peace across the sea both had search for. An elf would be able to put the passing of dear ones to rest in the land of the Undying and a dwarf would be besides him for as long as he could. They were the last of the Fellowship and it was only fitting that they would leave Middle-earth together.

And in a month's time, as their grey ship sailed towards the sea, an end had finally come upon the shores of Arda to the heroic band of Nine that had set out in darkness and returned the light.

Finis.

~*~

End Notes:

The reason for the title and poem is because I found the idea that the Earth is 'but a player's stage' for Elves very fitting and I fell in love with it.

Due to Elladan and Elrohir's parentage they were given the choice as to whether or not they would choose a mortal life or an immortal one. I have always been under the impression that they chose to live a mortal life although this has not been completely confirmed in Tolkien's work.  All the Master said upon that subject is that their choice of Elladan and Elrohir was delayed. So, I am still with the idea that they took the mortal path and remained in Middle-earth till they died.

It is written that Celeborn and Glorfindel stayed after the Three Ring holders had left for Valinor, yet Celeborn took upon residence in southern Eryn Lasgalen since Lothlórien was fading with the departure of the Lady. In this story, they have not yet departed and Celeborn is visiting Imladris; I figured he had to be lonely without Galadriel. They will pass onwards, however, just not at the same time as Legolas and Gimli.

I mentioned Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir's 'uncle'. This Peredhil would be Elros, Elrond's twin brother.

The last line 'an end had finally come upon the shore of Arda…' is a slight alteration upon the words that Tolkien wrote in the appendix of Lord of the Rings. His line is as follows: 'And when the ship passed an end was come in Middle-earth of the Fellowship of the Ring.'

Thank you to all who read and enjoyed this story. I found it hard to write and yet very satisfying because it closed a certain part of the Lord of the Rings that had never been finished. As a plug, I recommend reading Thundera Tiger's tale "Beyond this World" for what happens in Valinor MANY years later. To me, that is the finally ending of the Fellowship and a truly touching story.

Any comments/feedback/questions feel free to e-mail me or review. I like both.


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